A TRIBUTE TO
ALL MOTHERS

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For working mothers . . .
Stay-at-home mothers . . .
Single mothers . . .
Married mothers . . .
Mothers with money and Mothers without.
This is for you . . . This is for all of us.

For all those mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers
in their arms, wiping up barf laced with wieners and kool-aid saying,
"It's okay honey, Mommy's here."

Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end
soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

Who have shown up at work with spit-up in their hair
and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

Who run carpools and bake cookies and sew Halloween costumes.
And for all the mothers who don't.

Who gave birth to babies they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

Whose priceless art collections are hanging
on their refrigerator doors.

Who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games
instead of watching from the warmth of their cars,
so that when their kids asked,
"Did you see me, Mom?"
they could say,
"Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,"
and mean it.

For all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store
and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for
ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers
who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

And for those who sat down with their children
and explained all about making babies.
And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to,
but just couldn't find the words.

For all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

Who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year.
And then read it again. "Just one more time."

Who taught their children to tie their shoelaces
before they started school.
And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

Who teach their sons to cook and their
daughters to sink a jump shot.

Whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?"
in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring
are at home -- or even away at college.

Who sent their kids to school with stomach aches,
assuring them they'd be just fine once they got there,
only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later
asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

Whose children have gone astray,
and who can't find the words to reach them.

Who bite their lips until they bleed
when their children dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of crimes,
and the mothers of those who did the crimes.

For the mothers of the survivors,
and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror,
hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

And this page is dedicated to all the mothers who taught
their children to be peaceful,
and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What Makes A Good Mother Anyway?
Is it patience?
Compassion?
Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby?
Cook dinner?
And sew a button on a shirt?
All at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?

Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 a.m.
when you just want to hear their key in the door
and know they are safe again in your home?

Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child
when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are
for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and
sleep deprivation... And mature mothers learning to let go.

HANG IN THERE!
In the end we can only do the best we can.
Give your child(ren) a hung and tell them you love them every day.
And pray.

FEEL FREE TO PASS THIS PAGE ON TO ALL THOSE WONDERFUL MOTHERS YOU KNOW!

"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."

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E-mail me at:
MoondasMadness@hotmail.com